


A•part

by yohaririko (PorcelainCas)



Category: Love Live! Sunshine!!
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Falling Out of Love, Growing Up, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 02, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:56:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14284410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorcelainCas/pseuds/yohaririko
Summary: APARTadverb1. (of two or more people or things) separated by a distance; at a specified distance from each other in time or space.A•PARTnoun1. a piece or segment of something such as an object, activity, or period of time, which combined with other pieces makes up the whole.





	A•part

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for a mention of Mari/Other(f) and a very side Dia/Sarah and Dia/Other(f) (though nothing implied explicit for both of them!) and hinted Ruby/Leah + a lot of angst and crying. Mainly filled for a DiaMari angst w/happy ending request, but I guess I went a little overload on the angst.
> 
> I know Japan doesn't really do undergrad (or do they?) but I find it hard to work around that so...you get my experience of post-secondary education. 
> 
> I listened to [this](http://66.90.93.122/soundfiles/nintendo-ds-2sf/princess-debut/0001%20bgm_ending.mp3) a lot for the first half and then this [soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QXOFBMG6Dko&t) for the second half.
> 
> edited and cleaned up now! hopefully. feel free to point out spelling/grammar errors. for some reason, this final version is like... 2k words longer than what I originally posted. lesson learned, never write the majority of a fanfic in one night before a major exam until 5am.
> 
> warning: Lost and Delirious is mentioned briefly near the end (not as a comparison to DiaMari). If you don't know it, it might be better that you don't look it up unless you're really into soul-crushing sapphic tragedy.

You watch Mari wrap her arms around Kanan in a final, tight hug. Mari’s lips are curved into a gentle smile, her chin burrowed into the curve of Kanan’s neck.

“Gonna miss you,” Mari says in a soft tone. It feels like you’re intruding on something, and you avert your eyes to the ground. Kanan and Mari had always had something special between the two of them. Something that you were never included in. You clench your fists and then you release them.

“Remember to keep in touch,” Kanan says after a while. They’ve parted when you look up again, arms holding onto each other and smiling brightly. Then she turns her eyes on you, and you feel lost once again, drowning in the sea without an anchor. You can’t move.

She opens her arms wide to you. It’s an offer; you take your first step, feet hesitating. And then another. And then another. And then you’re falling into her arms with a choked sob.

“There, there,” Mari says while stroking the top of your head though you can hear the tremor in her voice, and you’re glad at least she’s trying to stay strong. You hold tightly onto Mari, because you know what letting go means. You’ve already experienced it once, two years ago. But this time – this time will be permanent.

No more morning practice, where you two sometimes jogged together at the very back of the line. No more afternoon tea at her place when you have a new idea for a choreography that you’re dying to share. No more nights when she forces you to stay up and listen to her punk rock albums.

And yet still – you can’t find the words. There is something stuck in your throat, and you’re scared that you’ll really cry if you start to speak. Mari doesn’t need this right now. Not when the three of you have already made your promises in that tunnel, when she had spun around, smiled and fixed her unrelenting stare on you and Kanan. You had looked away.

_“Don’t tell me you’re going to try and stop me from going to Italy?”_

No, you’re not. You know you’re not.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t love her.

She deserves to hear it, you think. She deserves to know, before she leaves. She deserves to hear you say it before she makes her final decision.

You pull back from the hug and look up at her. Her eyes are wet and her smile is being pulled down, verging on the point of tears. “Mari,” you start. Your throat is scratchy like you haven’t spoken for years. You try again. “Mari, I –”

And that’s as far as you can go before you feel the tears running down your cheeks. And you know you can’t tell her. You have to keep these words locked up where she’ll never get the chance to hear them. It would be too selfish to subject her to your feelings when the time is nigh. The helicopter is waiting for her – the same bright fuchsia monstrosity you called her out for in middle school. The same one that took her away in first year and then brought her back in third year. The very same one that will take her away from you again.

Mari is reaching a hand out and wiping away the unbidden tears from your cheeks. You blink more tears away with a sniffle.

You try again, “Mari – I wish you luck in your future.” The words feel clunky; Your heart is screaming at you. That’s not what you wanted to say. You wanted to say _I love you!_ You wanted to paint the words across the sky for her. You wanted to declare it so loudly it would be impossible for her to leave. But you can’t. You can’t be selfish.

“Oh Dia –” Mari is looking at you so tenderly that you feel raw and exposed, your words stripped naked and revealed for what they are: a love confession hidden under a layer of well meaning wishes. You can feel it – the electricity jolting through your body from the place where your skin meets her hand, the lowering of her eyes to your lips. She’s going to kiss you. She’s going to kiss you. She’s going –

She lets go of you and steps back, leaving you bereft. You feel like you are a fish, reaching for the moon. Mari was never yours to begin with.

“Goodbye,” she says, blowing a kiss to you and Kanan before she turns and runs towards the helicopter without once looking back. Your chest is a gaping wound and Mari has stuck you through with a knife. You take a step forward before you can stop yourself. Then you pause, holding your breath in an attempt to hold yourself still.

You and Kanan watch her get in, and the both of you watch her leave once again the same way she left two years ago.

She’s waving through the window as the helicopter rises and the both of you wave back to her, even when she is so high up in the air and you can’t see her through the window anymore. You’re still waving when she’s nothing more than a pink dot in the sky.

When you arrive at home, you head straight into your room. The bedroom is neat and orderly, just the way you like to keep it, though something makes you want to tear everything apart, rip open the colour-coordinated notebooks on your bookshelf and spill all your clothes from the closet onto the floor. You close your eyes and take a deep breath in and then you release it before opening your eyes. It hurts, but that’s no excuse to be unreasonable.

On your bed is your school uniform, a little ratty from being unwashed, the green tie beginning to come undone. You pick it up and wrap in your arms, bringing it up to your face. And there, just there, you think you can smell a faint hint of Mari’s flowery perfume when she had sprayed you with it during graduation. You had protested then, much to Mari’s amusement, but now you’re grateful for at least this one thing left of her, no matter how ephemeral it is.

Then, you bury your face in the uniform and cry.

 

Kanan accompanies you to Tokyo when you move into your new apartment. It’s a tiny place with a single bedroom and a bathroom, and the window is a tiny square of light filtering through the dim place. It’s a little dusty, and you apologize to Kanan for it. She only laughs and shakes her head. “It’s no biggie,” she tells you. “I’ll only be here until tomorrow afternoon. Then I’ll need to catch my flight to the Philippines at the airport.”

You nod, trying not to feel dejected that your other friend is leaving as well. You kneel on the floor and begin to unzip your suitcase before you remember that your school uniform from Uranohoshi is sitting on top of your clothes. You hadn’t expected Kanan to come along, and now you feel a little embarrassed that she might see.

“Dia,” Kanan says, interrupting your thoughts. “Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Tell who what?” you ask, a little too sharply. You wince at how defensive it sounds.

Kanan rolls her eyes. “Don’t play dumb, Dia. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t,” you say, deciding to open your suitcase anyway. There’s no doubt that Kanan can see your school uniform now. You push it aside and begin to organize your shirts slowly and carefully, dreading what Kanan will say next.

“Why didn’t you tell Mari the truth?” Her voice is quieter now.

“I did. I told her good luck,” you respond. It sounds inadequate even to yourself. Your hands are shaking and you can’t stop it.

“That’s not the truth.”

You don’t respond, hoping oh god, oh god, that she doesn’t continue.

“Dia,” she says again.

“Stop,” you tell her, shutting your eyes tightly. You heart hurts again. “Just stop. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” she finally says, and you feel a rush of relief fill your body. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here for you.”

You nod without looking at her, hand reaching out to smooth the wrinkles of the school uniform.

When you come back from the campus tour of the University of Tokyo the next day, Kanan is already gone.

 

You’re buying groceries one day when you think you see her.

She’s wearing what seems to be a white blazer and a black skirt. She has her back to you while she’s staring at the coffee beans section, hand mulling over the different brands as she examines them carefully. Maybe she’s here in Tokyo for a business trip and has stopped by to do some quick shopping before she takes off again. She’s always loved going on a shopping trip to Tokyo to buy coffee beans. You and Kanan had followed her more than once in the past – with you getting lost on the first occasion. Her signature hair loop isn’t there, but maybe she’s decided for a different style after high school. After all, you’ve cut your hair a little shorter so it sits on your shoulders, and you think you might let your bangs grow out soon from your usual straight cut.

You’re almost right behind her before you know it, having dropped your shopping basket while you ran over to her. You’re calling her name, but she’s not responding, and you’re wondering why she’s ignoring you. Does she not want to associate with you any more? It has been a year and a half, and you suddenly wonder if she’s forgotten you. You push that silly thought away the moment it arrives.

“Mari,” you say again, touching her shoulder. Your heart is racing. She turns around, looking down at you with her…blue eyes.

That’s not Mari.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” you say, backing away slowly. You can feel your heart crash into the floor, and then there’s nothing but the hollowed emptiness you’ve felt growing inside of you since Mari left. You can’t feel anything but numbness spreading through your body. Why did you think that was Mari? Now you can see how different she is, even from behind – taller and too skinny. But in that desperate moment, your mind had concocted an image you believed.

“Don’t worry,” she says in a heavy American accent, smiling flatly at you before turning back to the shelves of coffee beans. You continue staring at her for a second before forcibly turning away. It’s been months. It shouldn’t have this effect on you.

You walk back to pick up your fallen basket, checking the eggs thoroughly to make sure that they haven’t cracked and continue on with your shopping chores.

 

You attend the idol club’s annual general meeting for the first time in your second year of university, and you’re on your phone under the table the whole time. The old Aqours group chat is still there, littered with goodbye messages from Chika and the gang and a video recording Ruby sent of your final live. It brings a smile to your face, but it also makes you feel nostalgic. You haven’t talked to them since you left Uchiura two years ago, having stayed the break at school. Neither Chika, You, or Riko have chosen to go to the University of Tokyo this year either.

You talk to Kanan sometimes over the phone but things have gotten busy for the both of you to keep in touch. The last time you talked was last month.

And Mari. You haven’t had a full conversation with her since the second month of her departure for Italy. All that’s left are sparse “hey how are you?” messages that get answered a week later with a generic “I’m doing good. You?” It suddenly hits you that you don’t even know which city in Italy she’s currently living in, if she hasn’t moved somewhere else yet.

You still miss her but you’ve been getting better at living without the two of them. Without her.

You put away your phone and try to focus on what’s being discussed. There’s a plethora of executive positions open, but you don’t think you’re very interested. They tend to discuss about the actual idol industry rather than school idols. It makes sense, you are all adults after all. The single most interesting thing in the entire meeting is when they mention how Yazawa Nico, a former member of the school idol group μ’s, had gone on to become a highly successful idol herself before moving onto mainstream pop. Of course, you had already known all of that, but hearing them talk about μ’s begins to reignite your passion, though the meeting ends quickly after that.

You’re leaving with the rest of the attendees when the vice president stops you.

“Excuse me,” she says, squinting at you, “but do you happen to be a former idol from Aqours that won the Love Live competition two years ago?”

Two years ago, you would have jumped for your five minutes of fame. But something doesn’t feel right about it now that you’re the only representative of Aqours standing here. You end up shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Yeah,” you say almost coolly. Her mouth falls open in astonishment. Before she can say anything else, you walk out the door. You can’t help your wide smile though and you text the group chat immediately after you leave without even thinking. You get a flurry of messages and stickers immediately after sending it, mostly from Chika and Yoshiko. _Did she mention me? Did she mention Uranohoshi? Wow, that’s so exciting! Ah, my hard work has finally paid off and now Yohane, the fallen angel, is getting recognized for their arduous endeavors! But Yoshiko, that girl didn’t mention you at all, she was talking about Dia. Shut it, Zuramaru!_

You grin at the message, realizing that Aqours and your friends aren’t gone forever. They’re here, just waiting for you to reach out to them.

 

When you see the picture on your screen, you answer the call immediately, almost dropping your phone in the process.

“Hey Mari! How are you doing?” you ask almost breathlessly into the phone. You get a laugh in reply, and it sounds just as you remembered it – like windchimes on a gentle day, soothing and joyful.

“Have you been running? You sound out of breath,” she comments with a giggle. It feels so, so good to hear her voice again. You’re clutching desperately onto your phone in the middle of the street in Akihabara, and you’re sure you’re obstructing the path, but you can’t find yourself to care at the moment. “Anyway, I’ve been good. Business school is a little hard, but I’m working through it. How are you?”

“Me? Oh! I’m good. I’m good.” You just want to sit down and listen to her talk for hours. After some grumbling from other pedestrians, you decide to move to the side of the street next to the school idol shop.

“Saw your message from the other day. You got recognized as Aqours?”

You smile, hugging one arm around your chest as you look at the ground. “Well, I don’t think she knew my name but she definitely knew who I was. Though you know, I had class so I played it cool, said ‘yeah’ and walked away.”

And just like that, it feels like nothing has ever changed. You’re back in high school, and Mari is making her way to Tokyo from the train in Numazu. You’re seventeen again, and you’re preparing for one of your live shows in Tokyo. Chika is in the school idol shop fangirling over bootleg μ’s merchandise while Riko is buying yuri manga in the shop upstairs and You is buried waist-deep in uniforms. Kanan is off buying food to share with the rest of Aqours later on, and the first years are somewhere on the streets with Yoshiko definitely making a fool out of herself while Ruby and Hanamaru giggle in the corner. The conversation with Mari comes easily, and you forget the distance between the both of you. Your heart is swelling and you haven’t felt filled to the brim in so long.

A sudden drop of water hits your forehead, and you look up to realize that the sky has darkened with storm clouds and the once crowded streets are thinning out. You hurry your way into the school idol shop you haven’t been in since you made your second debut as Aqours. The shop is practically empty and you browse the new merchandise while you talk to Mari on the phone, describing everything that you see. You don’t see anything from Aqours here, and you’re not surprised nor saddened by the fact. School idol groups rise and fall quickly, and most of them hardly make a legacy like μ’s did.

“Oh, did you know Ruby, Yoshiko and Hanamaru started up an idol group?” you tell her while you’re looking at plush toys of the three of them. You begin to tell her all about their group and the songs they sing, and how once, you had to play mediator for their lyric writing over a video chat since their styles were so different and contrasting.

“You sound happy,” she says when you finish.

You duck your head down, trying to a hide a smile even though the shop is empty except for a bored looking worker on her phone at the checkout. “Yeah well… It’s good to hear your voice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re developing feelings for me, Dia!” Mari scolds lightheartedly, and you feel your heart suddenly drop, your good mood dissipating with her words. Have you been reading everything wrong the whole time? There’s something in her voice that’s off… You put the plush Ruby you’ve been holding back in its place beside Yoshiko. When the silence is a microsecond too long, Mari lets out an awkward laugh. “Sorry, guess it wasn’t that funny. But I just want to tell you… I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah… She’s, um, really cool. If we ever meet up some time soon, I’d love for you and Kanan to meet her.”

You don’t know what to say, but you’re smiling for some reason. It’s a painful smile, stretching the corners of your lips so wide that it feels false. Something starts to build in your throat and you don’t know why you’re forcing yourself to smile – nobody can see you right now. You don’t have to physically fake feeling happy for Mari but you can’t stop yourself. “How long?”

“Huh?”

“How long have you been dating?” You hate how defensive you sound. You hate it so much. If you truly loved Mari, shouldn’t you be happy for her? Why do you have to be so selfish? You’re clenching a fist against your sternum and pressing down in some attempt to alleviate the sharp pain.

“I… Just last month. But I’ve known her since I arrived in Venice. She was one of the first people who talked to me in class.”

Your lungs are gasping for air. The words won’t come out.

“Dia?” Mari asks quietly over the phone. You can’t breathe when she says your name so softly like that, even though you know her smiles and her touches are reserved for someone else.

“Something just came up. I have to go.” You end the call, slipping your phone back into your pocket and lowering your head. Talking to her has reopened all the wounds that time has been healing and you find tears streaming down your face. You can’t stop them, no matter how hard you rub your face with the sleeves of your shirt. Quiet sobs turn into loud ones as you end up uncontrollably crying in front of the shelf that holds illegal merchandise of your little sister’s idol group.

It hurts so bad, and you wish you weren’t so selfish to want Mari all to yourself, even years after you’ve parted. Every time the tears seem to be slowing, an image of Mari hand in hand with a gorgeous woman floods your mind. You were never good enough for her. Her father had made his distaste of you clear back when you were children, and you’ve been scared ever since even though your feelings have kept growing and growing in size and intensity until this very moment.

Someone is asking you if you’re okay – you think it’s the store clerk – and you end up running out of the store and into the storm. Raindrops stream down your face, mixing with the tears on your face as you run. You don’t know why you’re running, only that you need to get out of there and go home. The streets are practically empty, a lone car passing by and splashing your clothes with gutter water. Somewhere along the way, you trip and fall onto the ground, cement scratching into the palms of your hands. When you’re on the ground, rain pounding against your back, you realize that you need to forget about her. You need to forget about everything that’s happened between the two of you in order to move on. Clearly Mari had never been interested in you and you’ve been chasing after nothing this whole time. She never loved you.

After a few moments, you force yourself to get up again and keep running, your heart chaining you down with every step.

 

In your fourth year of undergrad, you come across Kazuno Sarah in a café in Tokyo.

You had been studying for a final, headphones plugged in to one of μ’s’ songs on your laptop and humming along quietly while students and office workers bustled by to get their morning coffee. Someone had tapped you on the shoulder and when you looked up, it was Sarah. “Hello, Dia.”

“Sarah! I haven’t seen you in – wow! A long time,” you say, taking off your headphones. She looks exactly the same as she did when you were both in third year, except she has her hair down this time. She’s also gotten slightly taller, and has shed all the childishness in her face, looking exactly like an elegant woman who has stepped right out of a fashion magazine. In other words, you’re totally floored by how beautiful she is. Well – she’s always been beautiful but you hadn’t noticed at the time. You can feel a blush coming to your cheeks and you try to think of something else.

She reaches a hand out and you shake it. It feels oddly formal and familiar at the same time.

“May I sit?” she asks, and you gesture for her to go ahead.

“So how have you been?” you ask her. “What are you doing now?”

“Oh, nothing much. I’m currently a voice actor, but work has been work.” She shrugs, and then she looks at you, head tilting and smiling slightly, intense eyes focused on you. You’ve never really been the attention of a beautiful girl’s gaze like this in the past few years and it makes you blush. “How about you?”

“Well, I’m just studying at the moment,” you say, remaining humble. “I’m going to finish my undergraduate degree and then I’m going to study for law school. Maybe somewhere in America,” you add. God knows how prestigious those schools are, and it’ll look good when you come back to Japan after your studies.

“Aren’t you just the intelligent one,” Sarah says, smiling at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re something special. You can feel the flush on your cheeks already and you look down at the scribbled mess of your notes. You’ve never dated in your entire life, but you already know she’s flirting with you. You don’t know why she’s doing it, especially when she’s always had a stronger connection to Chika back in high school, but you’re not protesting any time soon.

The both of you continue talking for a while before it becomes apparent Sarah is interested in you. She finally breaks the question before you get tired of dancing around the question, “Do you want to go on a date with me?”

You want to say yes, but at the same time, you’re curious why she’s asking you so suddenly and now of all times when you’ve only just met up since high school. Ruby and Leah are practically inseparable at this point – Sarah could have asked them to relay the message to you any time she had wanted to.

“Why?” you ask her.

She’s taken aback by your straightforwardness, blinking a few times. The people in the café mill about you, going about their normal morning business without even taking a glance at the both of you. “Well why not?” she finally answers, though her smile is unsure this time. You come to an understanding that she’s asking because she knows you and wants to see if there might be anything between you two that could work out.

And you can just accept this answer and go on with the date, but something is digging in the back of your head. Something you can’t put a finger on quite yet. A feeling deep in your heart that has never quite recovered. You try to imagine yourself going on a date but something about it feels deeply wrong, twisting in your stomach. You shake your head. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I can’t,” you say, looking down at the table. It’s not like you don’t want to try it out too, it’s just that you don’t think you’re ready to be dating, even though you’re past twenty years old. When you look up, she’s nodding in understanding.

“Don’t worry,” Sarah tells you, getting up from her seat. “It was a shot in the dark. But, text me sometime if you want to chat. Maybe I can hook you up with a voice acting job if you ever have the desire to do it. Your singing is pretty good from what I remember.” She winks.

“Oh no,” you say, waving your hands out in front of you. “That stuff is long behind me.”

 

You and Sarah still keep in touch, but as nothing more than a casual acquaintance.

 

You’re back in Uchiura seven years since Aqours won the Love Live. You’ve just barely arrived at home when you receive a phone call from Matsuura Kanan.

“Hello?” you begin hesitantly, unsure if you’ll still recognize your friend after so many years. You’ve been talking online once in a while, catching up with each other’s lives, but you’re scared it might not be the same as it was before.

“Dia! I heard you were back in town. Want to come over to the diving shop?”

You agree, and when you show up, Kanan has a shiny new diving license to show you before she drags you out into the sea to go diving, just like the old times. It’s like nothing has changed since those days in high school.

Except the both of you know you’re missing one person.

You end up sitting together on the edge of the boat in your wetsuits when the sun starts to set, casting an orange glow in the sea’s waves. It’s been a fun day, but there’s something lonely about looking out into the endless sea. You wrap your arms around your legs, bringing your chin to rest on top as you listen to the rhythmic sound of water crashing against the boat. A few birds soar up in the sky high above you and you watch them disappear into the horizon.

“What’s up?” Kanan asks you, sitting beside you casually, one leg hanging slightly off the top of the boat.

“Nothing,” you say.

“Oh, come on,” Kanan replies, punching you lightly on the shoulder. You don’t react. “Is this about…Mari?”

You feel like you haven’t heard that name in years.

“I don’t know,” you admit honestly. “It’s been a long time since I thought about her, really.” And that’s true. You haven’t thought about her that much since the day she revealed that she was dating someone else. You had gotten irrationally emotional over it, but at the end of the day, the messages with Mari had eventually slowed to a stop. Something would have ended the relationship anyway even if that conversation over the phone hadn’t. “I haven’t spoken to her for years.”

“Hmm,” Kanan muses. She doesn't sound surprised. “Why not?”

“We just grew apart,” you say. “Nothing much.”

“Well, I talked to her last night.”

You freeze for a second before your body remembers that it’s not supposed to care anymore. “Oh, really?” you ask, turning to look at Kanan, and you’re genuinely interested.

“Yeah, she’s pretty caught up with her father’s company. They were starting a branch somewhere in Greece and they wanted Mari to handle it.”

“Knowing Mari, she can do practically anything,” you say with a laugh. It’s been years since you’ve said that name, and the way it rolls off your tongue feels wrong. Off. You think maybe Kanan feels it too by the way she looks at you.

A silence falls between you and Kanan where you can only hear the sound of the crashing sea and the seagulls crying to each other far above. Finally, Kanan asks, “Dia, answer me honestly this time. Do you still love her?”

If you were asked this years ago, you might have reacted strongly to those words, like an unwanted confession spoken out loud. But this time, you don’t feel much: just a twinge in your heart at the words that disappears the moment it comes, like it’s being swept away by the sea waves.

“I loved her, yes,” you begin carefully, releasing the words that have been pent up for so long. It doesn’t feel like the release you had always thought it would feel like to speak these words, and you think, maybe this is because you’re no longer in love with her, though you know she might have possibly been the only one you’ve ever loved. Fell in love with. Sure, you’ve gone on dates with other women after the meeting with Sarah years ago but nothing had felt right, and it was always hard to explain to your girlfriend at the moment exactly why you didn’t want to date anymore. Maybe it’s tragic that you’ve fallen out of love with Mari; You don’t know. It doesn’t hurt to think about her with someone else anymore. “At some point though, I realized she had moved on,” you retell, remembering that day in the school idol shop. “And,” you say, shrugging and looking down at the orange-blue waters, “I realized it was time for me to move on.”

“Then have you moved on, like you told yourself to?”

You pause, wondering if you should say it or not, but then decide that you have nothing left to lose anymore since it’s all over. “Kanan, I’ve loved her since we were kids and didn’t know what the feelings meant.” Kanan is staring at you intently now, an expression of understanding mixed with pity and sadness. “I was jealous of what you had with Mari.”

“Mari and I are just friends,” Kanan interjects.

“I know,” you say.

After that, both of you don’t say anything. And when you start talking again, it’s about Kanan’s experience in the Philippines or your current life in Britain as a law student. You’re graduating soon, and you think maybe you’ll be getting a job at a firm there first to establish yourself before coming back to Japan. You talk about your futures until the sun has set and Kanan has to steer the boat back to the shore again. On your way back, you look over at the other shore where the Awashima hotel is. Just in the distance, you think you can make out the shape of the helicopter pad far away.

 

It’s raining again. Luckily, you have your umbrella with you as you make your way down to the office. You have some paperwork to fill out before you’re officially leaving the company. When you arrive, you find out that your coworkers have left a card at your desk with heartfelt messages and you can’t help smiling and thanking them all for such kind wishes. A part of you is sad that you’re leaving, but you think maybe this will be for the better. You miss Japan a lot, and you already have tickets for a one-way flight tomorrow morning. If you had stayed any longer in London, you might have continued putting off your flight like you had been for the past few months. You had only managed to get tickets after Ruby and Leah had called you and begged you to book the latest flight, which was on sale.

You decide to sneak into the break room to grab a final jelly-filled doughnut before you leave to the airport in the afternoon. When you enter, a commercial is playing in the television screen and you hear an all too familiar voice fill the room.

“And now the hotel is being built in places near you! Check in today to see our fabulous spas that comes with a night booking!”

You’re staring at the screen, watching as a blonde girl with bright amber eyes and a cowgirl uniform introduces the Awashima hotel. For a minute, you forget where you are. She has always had an affinity for cowgirl uniforms. You don’t know why you just remembered that.

“Oh, she’s so cute,” one of your coworkers say. “I always love these commercials.”

Instead of responding, you turn around leave, wondering why your heart is racing a mile a minute.

 

You arrive just in time to make it to Ruby’s fashion show, watching as model after model strides the catwalk with colourful, pastel and frilly outfits. As a recently graduated fashion designer, Ruby has had a lot of success, and you feel a swell of pride every time you see a new model march out with one of her designs. You’re a little sad that you weren’t here in Japan to support her from the very beginning but nonetheless, you’re glad you’re here now to support her.

At the end of the show, Ruby gets dragged into interviews to talk about her choices, and you’re surprised to see how natural and confident she is in front of the camera, turning up her full charm as she smiles. Of course, she had grown leaps and bounds when she joined Aqours a decade ago, but this…this is a whole new side of Ruby that has matured over the years. You had always been by her side since childhood until you graduated high school, and you begin to wonder how everyone else has changed. You’ve lost connection with You and Riko, but Hanamaru, Yoshiko and Kanan are usually within close proximity, and Chika always responds a few hours within receiving a message. And Mari… Well, it’s been a long time but you can’t forget that commercial on the television you saw before you left your previous workplace. At least you know she’s still working for her father’s business.

When the interview is done and you’re leaving with Ruby, you think you see a certain flash of blonde hair in the crowd. But when you turn around to look, they’re already gone. Quashing your disappointment, you and Ruby make your way out of the venue and begin to plan a trip back home to Uchiura.

 

It only takes two weeks before you see her again.

It’s been ten years since you’ve all parted ways, and eight years since you’ve last spoken to her and she looks as beautiful as always. A little bit different and older and a little more tired, but still beautiful.

You had been about to go for a morning jog, having opened the door just when she was about to knock. You both stare at each other for a while before bursting into laughter and it feels good. It feels really good. When you look at her, it doesn’t feel like you’ve spent ten years apart on different parts of the world. Something in the back of your mind tells you that she was always here, right beside you whenever you needed her. Two parts of a whole that had been separated, learned to live without each other, and then reunited again.

“I’m going for a run, want to join me?” you ask her.

“I’m good,” she says, in an accented Japanese that shows she hasn’t been using the language for a long time. “But do you want to take a walk to the temple at the top of the mountain?”

“Sure,” you say and you both head out.

You begin by asking about each other’s lives, catching up after eight years of silence. And it’s awkward at first, like it should be. But at the same time, it feels so right. Like a part of you has been missing and now you’ve found it again. It fits so perfectly in your heart and you don’t even know why you had cut communications for eight years.

It turns out that Mari is here to visit old friends and you had just happened to be home just in time for her first visit.

When you reach the top, you finally stop to get a good look at her. She’s dressed simply but eloquently: a soft white sundress and a white beach hat with a purple flower pinned to it. You can’t see from the hat but something tells you that she no longer wears her hair in a braid and a loop. Her hair is now perfectly straight instead of the natural curly bounce she wore in high school, and it’s a little bit longer now, growing just before her elbows. Her face has grown into her age, and she’s lost some of that mischievousness she’s always had as a teenager – her mouth soft and stern instead of the curled half-grin like she was about to pull a prank. Still, you think, despite all of the changes, she’s still _Mari_. And you think she looks like a goddess.

You realize that she’s looking at you and you blush, hoping she hadn’t seen the thoughts on your face. Your looks have also changed a bit, having cut your hair into a businesswoman’s neat long bob that stops at the top of your shoulders. Your bangs are gone, having grown longer into your hair and swept to each side of your face. You’re still shorter than Mari, though.

“So, how’s your girlfriend?” you ask, cutting to the chase.

“We broke up a long time ago,” Mari says without a beat. You barely have time to recover before she says something else. “I realized I might have been using her as a replacement for someone else very dear to me.” She smiles almost pitifully, staring at the stone temple that you used to run by every morning when you trained for Love Live as Aqours. That was so many years ago that it doesn’t even feel real anymore. You barely have a recollection of it.

“It’s good to know what you want,” you offer her. She shakes her head, clenching her fists and refusing to look at you. You get a feeling that she’s about to say something that you had wanted to hear years ago, and you begin to feel a pressure in your chest you haven’t felt since you watched _Lost and Delirious_ back when you were working at the law firm.

“I made a mistake,” Mari ends up saying. “And…while I wouldn’t take back the last ten years, I wish things were different.”

Your throat is dry. Is this really it? Did it really take ten years to lead up to this one moment? “Mari…” Her name spills from your lips.

“Dia, I love you,” she says, looking at you so honestly, so openly, that you feel like your heart is about to explode. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize it before but… If you feel the same way…”

You don’t know what to say.

“I…”

Ten years. Ten years and you’re standing speechless in front of her just like the day she left.

“Dia, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” Mari says, still looking at you, though the light in her eyes have dimmed, and you’re certain that her boldness is fleeing her spirit by the second. “I just wanted you to know, if anything.” She turns away crestfallen with her shoulders hunched over, and she starts to head in the direction of the stairs down the temple. No – No. This can’t be how it ends. This can’t be how it ends with the only girl you had ever truly loved.

“Mari, wait,” you say, reaching out and grabbing her arm. She stops but she doesn’t turn to look at you. “Mari… I loved you too,” you tell her, forcing the words out even though they protest being thrust in the open, “but that was a long time ago, and things have changed. I’ve changed. I’m not the same Dia you know.” There’s a pause, and you know that Mari has heard the past-tense in your confession.

“I know,” Mari says, her voice betraying no emotion. You press on, wanting her to understand that while things are in past-tense, it doesn’t mean that it has to stay that way. You can’t have waited for ten years in order to throw away your sole chance at redemption.

“No, what I’m saying is… Mari if you still love me after all these years, give me a chance.” A part of you feels stupid, begging for a chance when you’re the one who’s fallen out of love. But you can’t let her go if you haven’t tried anything yet. You’ve been stubborn for so long, and now an opportunity has appeared. You think about what Kanan said three years ago, the last time you were in Uchiura _: Then have you moved on, like you told yourself to?_

You have moved on, but it doesn’t explain the feeling stirring in your chest, the sudden buzz under your skin as you look at the woman you’ve loved since you were both young children.

There’s a brief moment of stillness before Mari turns to look at you. You can feel your heartbeat thumping dangerously. “A chance?” she asks, hesitantly. You nod, letting go of her arm now that you know she won’t dash off without hearing you out.

“Give me a chance to fall in love with you again,” you say in one breath.

Mari averts her eyes and you resist the urge to grab her again. It’s her choice in the end, you tell yourself. You had never wanted to make your love feel like a burden, which is why you never said anything when she left for Italy. You’re not going to make her choices for her either this time, but you’re not going to shoot yourself in the foot like you did when you were a teenager. “I don’t think that’s possible. If you don’t love me anymore, it may be best if we just stay as friends. I guess I just missed out on all the good stuff.” She’s trying to joke, but you can hear a crack in her voice when it hits too close to home for her, and you think she’s trying not to cry.

“Just give me one chance,” you beg her. “I’ll prove to you that I can.”

“And if you can’t?” Her question sounds like an ultimatum.

“Then we remain friends like we always have been and nothing changes between us,” you confirm. After all these years, you are given the chance that you’ve wanted all along. You can’t throw it away like this. Not when a piece of you is yelling at you to pursue this. Not when you’ve come so close after being unable to tell her your true feelings ten years ago.

“I’m sorry I grew distant after you told me about your girlfriend,” you admit when she doesn’t say anything. You’re babbling now, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like her confession has lifted up a wall and now you can’t stop telling her about everything you’ve suppressed over the years. “I was being stupid. I was jealous and I thought that I didn’t stand a chance. I thought that you didn’t love me, and had never loved me and that I was just…pining after you hopelessly. I felt lost, Mari. I was hurting and I made some dumb decisions.” Your voice falls soft. “I didn’t want to be in pain anymore.”

“Dia…,” she begins almost to herself. Then she closes her eyes and shakes her head like she’s trying to push away a thought. “I knew how you felt since we were in third year,” she confesses quietly. The knowledge should have shaken you, but it doesn’t, and you think that maybe some part of you had suspicions all along but was too afraid to talk to her about it. “But I was never sure if I was right and I didn’t know if I felt the same way… Dia, I’m so sorry. If I were you, I would have done the same. I never wanted to make you feel that way. I’m so sorry.” She wipes a hand over her eyes and tries to say something else but only a sob comes out, which she quickly covers by putting her palm over her mouth. You can still hear the sounds coming from her, and you want to reach out and hug her so badly, but you know you have to talk through this.

You take a small step toward her and speak in a gentle tone. “It doesn’t matter anymore. If you weren’t ready to make the decision then, it’s okay. I’m not angry at you. The choice was always and still is yours to make.”

She removes the hand from her mouth and then speaks. “I… I practically rejected you. We haven’t seen each other in ten years. You can’t change what has already happened.” Her voice is shaky.

“Then let’s start over,” you tell her. You need her to understand this – that the potential isn’t gone forever the minute one of you have begun to fall out a love. That you still have your entire lives in front of you and you still have a chance to redeem whatever is between you and Mari. You remember something your mother told you a long time ago, about how love is always an active process that two people are committed to and a part of, and you offer Mari her part in that process: “I’m Kurosawa Dia. And you are?”

“I… Ohara Mari,” she says, almost a mumble. Her eyes are still looking at the ground, but you think, at least she’s responding. She has to want the same thing as you do, to have gone through such a long tirade and still be here, standing in front of you under a foliage of leaves, in the place where you used to pass by on morning runs as teenagers back when you two were school idols.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m just wondering, would you be free for a date with me tomorrow night?”

She looks up to meet your eyes now, her own eyes glazed over with tears. But now there’s a smile spreading across her face as she takes in the depth and truth of your words. Falling out of love had been a long and arduous process, but you know you have the capacity to love her again when you feel so complete with her. You reach a hand out with the palm facing up, and after a moment of hesitation, Mari reaches out to grasp your hand. You smile at her, brilliant and wide, and your heart feels like bursting at her next words.

“I’d love to.”

**Author's Note:**

> Halfway into writing the first scene as 2nd person POV, I realized one of the Aqours member is named...You... Which is why she doesn't get more than very brief a mention in this fic because of the possibility of massive confusion!
> 
> find me at [guiltytuning](http://guiltytuning.tumblr.com)!


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